


Stupebit et Natura -- Dum Spiramus

by starbuckmeggie



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Erotica, F/M, Insecurities, Requiem, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, Smut Fest, Some Fluff, Some Plot, post-Requiem, smurotica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13191081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbuckmeggie/pseuds/starbuckmeggie
Summary: Just a little post-Requiem tale. Josh, Donna, and what could have happened after the episode.





	Stupebit et Natura -- Dum Spiramus

“You know, it was really super of you to make it over here tonight,” I say, gasping between each word.

Donna giggles and kisses my chest, taking my words as intended instead of as sarcasm. “Well, it was really super of you to invite me.”

“I’m a super kind of guy.”

“Mmmm. Indeed you are.” Another kiss, this time to my neck, and I run my fingers down her sweaty back.

“You’re awesome,” I blurt out, cringing immediately at how adolescent it sounds. 

She lifts her head slowly, and I watch as a massive grin overtakes her face. “I know.”

“And modest, too.”

She shrugs, burying her face in my neck. “I learned modesty from the best.”

I feel like I should be insulted, but I just can’t bring myself to rise to the occasion. She sighs against my neck; I can feel her heart jackhammering against her chest, my own heart pounding in response. I can feel tiny tremors running through her body. I swear to God, she’s going to kill me. 

Truthfully, I can think of worse ways to go.

She pops up suddenly, propping her chin her hand, her elbow balanced on my shoulder. “You’re very…giving, you know that?”

I roll my eyes and shrug, my hands sliding down to her thighs. “It’s just an overwhelming need to please.”

“Well, I must admit,” she says, pausing to lean up so we’re nose to nose. “I’m very pleased.”

“Then my work here is done.” I smile as she presses her lips to mine, both of us moaning simultaneously as we reconnect. One of the many things I’ve discovered about Donna in the last few days is that she’s an amazing kisser. She puts everything she has into it, managing to be somehow both the aggressor and almost submissive at the same time. Maybe it’s just that we’re not kissing to win anything or one up each other—stupid as it sounds even in my head, we’re a team even in this part. We’re kissing the same way we worked together for years. It’s in tandem, almost like a mind-meld, where she answers a question before I’ve managed to ask it. In a way, it makes sense that kissing and sex feels so natural with her. It’s almost just part of who we are. 

She breaks away suddenly, her forehead crinkling in concern. “We’re not actually done, are we?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

She shifts her hips and I unsuccessfully stifle a groan. “Doesn’t feel done,” she murmurs, almost purrs, and I dig my fingers into her thighs, trying to hold her steady.

“Donna,” I moan, my eyes slamming shut. I take deep breaths and try to think neutral, cleansing thoughts, but she just clenches her inner muscles around me and tries to shoot my plan for control all to hell. “You’re killing me.”

No, I’m not finished. Right now, I’m stuck in limbo. Well, no, not limbo. I’m actually firmly entrenched in Donna, waiting for her to recover and hoping to keep myself together enough to make continuing worthwhile for her. She came just minutes ago and I watched fascinated as her body clenched and rocked against mine, her head falling back as her mouth dropped open. She called my name—loudly—and her voice echoed around my bedroom like an answer to the times I’ve groaned her name in the years leading up to this.

Still, I wasn’t quite as far along as she was when it happened, which allowed me the luxury to just sit back and watch, amazed, as she rode me into oblivion. The fact that I can cause this sort of response in her—and so quickly—still makes me want to scratch my head in disbelief. I just want to be able to do it over and over again. I don’t even care how Cro-Magnon that is. Her body damn near gave out afterwards, and she sprawled out on top of me to recover. It gave me more time to regroup, too, but being completely surround by her is doing little to help my self control. 

“Sorry,” she says, but when I crack my eyes open, there’s not a bit of regret on her face. “I won’t keep torturing you.”

“Why don’t I believe that?” I ask, taking deep breaths. 

“I’m not very trustworthy,” she answers with a shrug, leaning up to plant another kiss on my lips. I move my hands up her body and wrap my arms around her, pulling her to my chest. She doesn’t put up a fight. Her hands slide up to my hair, her fingers tugging just hard enough to make me shiver. When we come up for air, she crosses her arms over my chest, propping her head up to look at me. I can still feel her heart thumping and her breathing hasn’t yet returned to normal, but I can wait to go some more…I think. 

The corner of my mouth quirks up and I run my fingers through her hair, sweeping it over her shoulder when I feel how hot her neck is. “So, how’d you manage to get here?”

“Cab,” she answers, her eyes twinkling just a little.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do?”

“How’d you escape CJ’s?”

“I’d hardly call it an escape.”

“What’d you tell her to get out of there?”

She hesitates, licking her lips. I wouldn’t say nervously, but she does look reluctant. “Does it really matter?”

“Well, yeah, now it does. Am I part of the cover story? What’d you tell her about me that…” My voice drifts off, my imagination running rampant. What sort of elaborate ruse did she come up with to tell to the Chief Of Staff of the United States? Am I in danger of federal prison?

“I didn’t make up anything about you, so relax,” she answers with an eye roll. “Don’t be so paranoid.”

“Donna,” I say, my voice bordering on a whine. 

She shrugs and nods her head from side to side for a moment. Her fingers play with my chest hair, almost managing to distract me. I slide a hand down her and pinch her ass, making her squeak and jump. I hiss at the sensation, her inner muscles tugging at me in response. Good God. 

She settles against me again, giving me another shrug. “There’s a possibility that CJ now knows what’s going on between us.”

I almost choke. “You _told_ her?!”

She props herself up a little, looking indignant. “What’s wrong with her knowing?”

“Well…”

“Are you ashamed to be sleeping with me?”

My eyebrows jump up my forehead, and I honestly can’t tell right now if she’s serious or just torturing me. “I’m many things, Donna, but ashamed is not one of them. Sleeping with you is probably one of the least shameful things I’ve ever done.” Sappy, but true. Despite the fact that we’ve been going at it pretty hard at any opportunity, there’s something very pure about what we’re doing together, though how that could be, I’m not sure.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Do you understand how much shit she’s going to give me? How much grief I’m going to get about how, after all this time, I’ve finally managed to put the moves on you?”

“You didn’t put the moves on me,” she answers, settling her chin on her arms again. “I put them on you. If I’d waited for you to do something, I’d still be taking cold showers.”

I can’t argue with that. I’d like to be able to, but she was definitely the one that let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted to have sex with me. “Okay, but that means I’ll get even more shit for _not_ being the one to put the moves on you. I can’t win with CJ.”

“Few can,” she agrees, tilting her head down to press her lips to my chest. I feel her teeth scrape lightly against my skin and she almost manages to distract me completely.

Almost.

“So, you went over to CJ’s and just told her about…this?”

She sighs in defeat and looks up at me again, shrugging. “Sort of. We went back to her place after the thing and I helped her clean off her the bed in her guest room. Then we sat down and opened a bottle of wine and started talking. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to spend any time with her, you know? We had a lot to catch up on.”

“ _In vino, veritas_?” I ask, and she grins.

“Always. It didn’t take long for me to tell her what’d been going on, and since we don’t work for the White House and she’s not Press Secretary, she could just listen and enjoy the story. Then she told me I was an idiot to stay at her place when I could be over here, getting laid. As it happens, I agreed with that. The wine _really_ agreed with that. So, I got into a cab, let myself in to your apartment, and here we are, naked. It doesn’t quite have the panache of a Grimm’s fairytale, but it’s the best I can do on short notice. Anyway, it worked out for her, too, because she’d made plans before I asked if I could stay over, but then she felt bad that I had nowhere to go. Now she can go do whatever she needs to do.”

Well, that part is intriguing. “CJ had plans? Sex plans?”

“Why do you immediately jump to sex plans?”

I lift an eyebrow and slide my hands up and down her bare skin. “As it happens, sex is at the forefront of my mind right now.”

“CJ’s plans are CJ’s plans, and they’re not your business or mine.”

I tilt my head, studying her face as I try to read her expression. “ _You_ know what her plans are. Tell me.”

“Josh!”

“It’s Danny, right? She’s meeting up with Danny.”

“Knock it off!” She smacks at my shoulder and I grab at her wrist, trying to hold her at bay.

“I’m not surprised. Danny’s been into her for years and now that she’s almost out of the White House, it makes sense. And, you know, he seemed pretty depressed at the reception tonight, but not in   
a—”

Donna’s lips are on mine suddenly, effectively cutting me off. I’m sure I’m right about this, but I care less and less by the moment. It’s almost a pity she didn’t employ this method of shutting me up years ago. 

“If CJ wanted you to know what she was doing,” Donna whispers against my mouth, somehow still managing to kiss me, “I imagine she would call you and let you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble, tightening my grip on her. A few moments later, we break apart with a mutual sigh. She tilts her head at me, an almost dreamy look on her face, and she reaches up to run her fingers through my hair. “So, CJ knows what you’re up to over here?”

She rolls her eyes, the look vanishing from her face. “It’d be a safe bet, since she was who kicked me out and told me to go have a bunch of sex, though I really hope she hasn’t put a lot of thought into since then. But I didn’t explicitly say that I was going to come over here and jump your bones, no.”

“’Jump my bones,’” I repeat, feeling a grin tug at my lips. She looks like she’s about to smack me again, but instead she thrusts her hips against me, rolling them slowly. I moan, my eyes slamming shut. “Oh, God.”

She giggles a little but takes pity on me and settles down a moment later. Her lips press against my chest, and I when I can manage to open my eyes, she’s watching me again.

I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, my hand lingering to cup her cheek. She relaxes into my touch, smiling a little.

“Why were you trying to push me off on Sarah?”

She blinks at me, her expression immediately turning innocent. “Hmm? Who?”

“Sarah Potrero? The one Amy suggested I call?”

“Sarah’s absolutely lovely. You’d have a good time with her.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“No, really. She’s funny, smart, easy on the eyes.”

“Donna—”

“It’s been a while; you could probably use a date. Dinner, conversation, maybe a little…” Her voice trails off at the end, and I’d swear it looks like she’s having a tough time finishing that thought. It occurs to me that, though we’ve never put anything like the label of “date” on it, Donna and I have been doing most of that for years. The whole naked element was just added to the mix a long time after the rest of it. We’ve yet to do any of it in a traditional order as yet, but there could be a day when we actually eat and talk then decide to have sex after.

“You know, it really is weird with you talking about this.” For so many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I’m literally still inside of her.

“It’s weird for me to encourage you to go on a date, but not for Amy to do it?”

“Didn’t feel weird, no.”

She makes a disgusted face, her eyes and nose scrunching up adorably. “That’s because every time you’re around Amy Gardner, you lose your goddamn mind.”

“I do not.”

“You absolutely do. How many times did the two of you break up and get back together?”

“You mean officially, or you want me to include the dumbass fights we had where we’d end it but be back together the next day?” I meant that to come out as snarky, but I think it actually proves her point.

“See what I’m saying? You turn into a gibbering pile of man-goo when you’re around her. She could tell you that there was a study that proved the moon was actually made of green cheese, and you’d believe her without a second thought.”

“Maybe, at one point, I might have been a little entranced by her. Guys do stupid things when they’re into a woman.”

“Women do stupid things, too,” she mumbles, but doesn’t bother to elaborate. I can only assume she’s talking about her idiot ex-boyfriend from years ago.

“That’s my point, we all do dumb things for people we care about.”

She shifts a little, and I swear that she’s about to slide off me, so I grab onto her hips to keep her in place. “You’re not thinking about getting back together with Amy, are you?”

“What the hell would give you that idea?”

“You mean other than the fact that every time you’re around her, you lose your goddamn mind?”

I feel a smile spread across my face as I realize that she’s actually jealous. Well that’s interesting. “I have no interest in being with Amy again. None. Even if she wasn’t in a relationship with some lumberjack guy, I still wouldn’t want to go down that road again.” She looks at me warily, and I really don’t know if don’t blame her for not trusting me with this one. Still, I grin even wider. “I’ve been extremely disenchanted with her for a long time.”

“Good,” she answers, looking a little relieved. I don’t know; maybe her reaction isn’t completely about jealousy, though I _am_ certain that’s part of it. Maybe there’s just a possibility that, as my friend, she doesn’t want to see me in that situation again.

“For the record, I’m not interested in going out with Sarah Potrero, either.”

Her entire face shifts and she presses her body even closer to mine, grinning broadly. “No, I think you should go out with her.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You should. It’d be good for you. You could have a nice meal, talk with someone who isn’t quite so involved in the election…” She trails off, her fingers tracing over my lips, and I don’t know if I’ve ever been so baffled in my entire life. I’ve never claimed to be an expert on women, though I think I’ve come closer to understanding Donna than I have to any other person ever, but now I’m second-guessing everything I’ve ever known about this particular woman. I’m almost completely positive that she doesn’t really want me to go on a date with Sarah Potrero. We’ve never discussed it, but she’s always been about as fond of me going out on dates as I have been about the losers she’s managed to pick up over the years. Now that we’re in a position to…well, be in the position we’re currently in, I would think she’d be even less fond of the idea of me calling up some woman I don’t know to see if she wants to break bread with me. Is this some kind of test? Am I supposed to prove my fealty to her by rejecting this woman, and any others that might be suggested to me? I wasn’t kidding when I said I had no interest in going out with Sarah, and I don’t know what else to say that would make her believe that. However, there’s also the very strong likelihood that she just wants to see me squirm, because it doesn’t seem to take much to get me to do so. 

I really don’t want to entertain the notion that she actually thinks going out with another woman would be a good idea. It’s kind of creepy. Doesn’t seem like Donna, but that brings me back to not being an expert on women. They’re infinitely more complicated than the rest of us mere mortals, much more complex than my shriveled, prehistoric brain can comprehend. 

“You think I should take another woman out on a date?” I whisper, managing to dart my tongue out to swipe at her fingertips. 

I could be imagining it, but I swear she swallows heavily. “Yes. It’d be good for you.”

“You think I should call her and ask her out?” She nods, and I drag my feet up slowly, bracing them on the bed. It shifts her a little closer to me. “I should bring her to a fancy restaurant, get to know her…”

“Yeah,” she breathes, her face suddenly millimeters from mine.

“And I should kiss her when I drop her off at the end of the date?”

Her nostrils flair just a little; her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. The corner of her mouth quirks up just a tiny bit. “If you think you need to.”

“I think it’s one of those traditions.”

She presses her lips to mine, kissing me slowly. There’s nothing possessive or frantic about it, nothing that lacks any confidence in her position in my life, but it makes me forget my name anyway.

“You should take her out,” she whispers, pulling back from me. “Put on a nice suit, bring her flowers, take her somewhere that needs reservations, maybe dance with her if it’s an option. Walk her to her door, kiss her goodnight.”

My hands slide up her back, one of them pushing in between her shoulder blades, the other reaching up to tangle in her hair as I pull her back to me, capturing her lips once more. I can only vaguely understand the words coming out of her right now. Instead, her proximity is suddenly overwhelming my senses, effectively cutting off any ability to focus on anything other than the way her body feels pressed against mine.

“And this would be good for me,” I whisper as we part again.

“It’d be therapeutic. It’d get your mind off things for a while.”

“And it’s a shame that Sarah Potrero is the only person who could help me with that.”

She grins and presses her lips to mine again, though this time the kiss is hungry, demanding. This time, the only thing I can remember is her name.

I’m fairly certain that I could kiss Donna forever.

“I just want you to promise me one thing when you’re out on this date,” she whispers, her mouth suddenly against my ear. I shiver at the sensation.

“Okay.”

She pushes herself up to a sitting position, making my breath catch in my throat. The soft light from my bedside lamp makes her entire body glow. Her naked form seems to stretch on for miles, and I rake my eyes over every inch of her. She is incredibly gorgeous, more so than I ever let myself imagine. My hands lock onto her thighs, my gaze dropping to where we’re joined, where I’m still firmly entrenched within her, and I feel myself harden painfully. She lets out a shuddery sigh and shifts her hips, and I know she felt it, too.

“When you pick her up for your date, think about me.”

I blink a few times, my brain taking its time to catch up the conversation. “Huh?”

She rocks against me slowly, her eyes drifting shut. I tighten my grip on her and do my best to stifle a moan. “Every time she smiles at you, think about me.”

“Okay,” I gasp, watching her hips roll against mine in a steady rhythm, and I have no idea what I’m agreeing to.

“Josh,” she says, her voice commanding even while breathless.

I manage to drag my eyes back up to meet hers, but it takes me a while—I have to stop and appreciate every curve and edge on the way. “Yeah.”

“Josh, listen to me.”

“I am,” I assure her, though I can’t be positive that I really am. 

“When you’re out with Sarah, I need you to think about me.”

Her words finally start to click. “You want me to think about you while I’m on a date with another woman?”

“You bet your ass,” she moans, shifting to a steady up-and-down motion. 

Somehow, I don’t think that would be a problem, if I had any intention of asking this woman out.

“Every time you look at her, I want you to think about me. Think about me like this, right now.”

I groan, digging my fingers into her delicate flesh. Just the suggestion of it makes me feel like I’m already on the edge. Thinking about sex with Donna while on a date with another woman…well, I’m actually only a little ashamed that it wouldn’t be the first time. Though, it would be the first time I’ve had more than just idle fantasies to work with.

“You’re a sick woman, Donna Moss,” I manage to grunt out, thrusting my hips up to meet hers. She laughs and I look up to see her grinning at me broadly. I slide my hands up her body, stopping to cup her breasts. Her laughter dies out when I run my thumbs over her nipples, her smile softens, and her movements grow erratic for just a moment. She places her hands on top of my forearms, squeezing me carefully. 

Slowly, I move one hand back down her body, trailing my fingertips over her stomach. I watch in fascination as the muscles in her abdomen jump and twitch beneath my touch. I look back up to her face; her eyes are heavy-lidded but still focused on me. Her mouth is open a little as she breathes heavily, tiny gasps and moans escaping her lips as she continues to move against me. Oddly enough, watching her as we have sex has been just about the only thing to keep me under control. She’s just endlessly fascinating, and I haven’t yet gotten over the fact that I’m doing this with Donna. It blows my mind and manages to keep me sufficiently distracted.

Moving blindly, my hand continues its journey down her stomach. I can feel her body tense around me in anticipation, but I keep my eyes on her face. She starts moving a little faster, her moans a little louder, and she’s just a little more breathless than before. My fingers find their way between her thighs, and her entire body jerks as I make contact, reacting almost violently until she evens out a few seconds later. Her face, though…I wouldn’t even know where to begin. It’s not quite at the level of her face during orgasm, but it’s right up there. 

I ease off her a little, my thumb stroking her in gentle circles. I don’t want it to happen too fast. I have no idea how many times in my life I’m going to be lucky enough to sleep with Donna Moss and I sure as hell don’t want to rush the moment. It’s enough for my ego that she’s already come once tonight. Anything more is just icing on the cake.

“Oh, my God, Josh,” she moans, and it goes straight to my libido. Her hands drop down to my chest and her nails dig into my skin. I can’t help the hiss of pain that comes out of me, but it doesn’t seem to faze either of us. Her hips rock back and forth against me forcefully. I run my thumb over her nipple one more time before I drop my hand to her hip, slowing her down.

“What’s the matter?” she gasps, grinding herself against me, and I feel my stomach tighten at the sensation. 

“What’s the rush?” I manage to choke out, though there are quite a few parts of me that are very adamant about what the rush happens to be.

“It just feels so good,” she moans, and I feel myself nearly come undone even as my ego swells to sizes previously unknown.

“You feel amazing,” I breathe, still rubbing my thumb against her sensitive flesh carefully. “Amazing” isn’t nearly a good enough word to describe how she feels—how all of this feels—but it’s the absolute best I can do right now. “ _You’re_ amazing,” I correct myself almost immediately, and she is. She always is, but even more so right now. It’s amazing that she’s put up with me for all these years, and it’s amazing that she’s here with me right now, and not just because she’s naked…though that is a bonus.

She falters a little, biting her lip with uncertainty. I can’t help but marvel at what a contradiction she is at times. This beautiful woman—who’s also smart, talented, creative, and younger than me by more years than I’m completely comfortable contemplating at the moment—who let me know in no uncertain terms not that many nights ago that she wanted me, and who has been so confident and self-assured while dealing with all of this, is also insecure about the way I see her. I don’t even understand how that could be. I can only imagine how I’m looking at her right now, and has to be nothing short of completely open awe, and she’s somehow unsure. 

She starts rotating her hips in tiny circles and I groan. Loudly. If she’s trying to prove to me that she doesn’t have to go fast to make me putty in her hands, well, I believe her. I press my thumb against her a little more firmly, rubbing her a little harder.

“Ahhh! Josh!” Her entire body jerks again, moving uncontrollably for a few seconds. “Ohhhhhh.”

She’s loud. I like that part. She’s not loud every second we have sex, and she’s not what I’d call a screamer, but she’s enthusiastic and has no qualms in letting me know. It’s an absolute turn-on. Hearing her say my name during sex is…it’s mind-blowing. 

It’s also pretty astounding that it seems like she’s on the brink of another orgasm. I don’t know if she’s normally this responsive, or if it’s because, up until a week ago, she hadn’t had sex for a while—not that I’m one to talk—or if this is her response to me, or if maybe I really am dynamite in bed. I also don’t think I’m at a point where I should be asking. I may not always be the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to women, but I know enough to just focus on her while we’re having sex and to enjoy the ride.

…No pun intended.

I feel her thighs tighten against my sides and watch as her head falls back for a minute. “Josh! Oh, my God!” I hope my neighbors are hearing this. I don’t care if they shoot me dirty looks in the morning, and I don’t care how much of a dumb guy ego thing it is, I basically want the entire world to know that I can make Donna Moss moan. I rub her a little faster, feeling thoroughly satisfied when she moans again, wordlessly. Her head pops up, and she smiles at me as she pants, her skin glowing with a thin layer of sweat. She’s a goddess. She’s an actual goddess. She has no business walking amongst mere mortals, and even less business gracing a schmuck like me with her presence. I have a brief moment of blinding clarity where I realize just how lucky I truly am—not because of the sex part, though it is amazing, but because she’s stuck with me all this time. Aside from our brief separation last year, of course, but to have gone through that part and to have her still want to be around me…I would have figured that the time and distance would have made her realize just how much of an ass I can be, not to mention that I’m an all-around miserable bastard. But even if she did realize those things, they weren’t enough to make her not want to be my friend, and for that, I’ll be forever grateful. 

I sit up suddenly, grabbing onto her hips with both hands to keep her in place as I shift to my knees. She blinks at me in surprise, but I press my lips to hers before she can say anything. She starts to move again, alternating between sliding up and down on me and rocking back and forth. It makes my head swirl. I wrap my arms around her, holding her as close as possible. She responds in kind, her arms going around my shoulders. 

“Josh,” she gasps against my lips. “Yes yes yes yes ohhhhhhh!” She throws her head back, her body arching into me as she moves a little faster. I latch onto her neck, nipping at her soft skin. I feel her shudder every time my teeth scrape against her, and it only makes me want to do it more. My name, followed closely by “yes” and “oh God,” falls continuously from her mouth, coming in varying degrees of volume and breathlessness. It’s anyone’s guess how I’m managing to hold onto my sanity at this point.

She yanks on my hair suddenly, and I grunt in pain. I look up at her and her eyes are wild, the pupils so dilated I can hardly see the blue-green that surrounds them. She kisses me again, sloppily, and I feel her start to move unsteadily. She breaks away a moment later, her brow furrowed, and her mouth drops open. 

“Ohhh. Ohhhh! Ahhhh!” Her hands scrabble at me, and I can’t help but stare up at her in fascination. She’s coming. Again. Because of me. I cannot get over that.

She does her best to keep her eyes on me as she moans, her body jerking against mine. I can feel her inner muscles clenching around me, pulling at me as she rockets out of control. 

I lean forward again, this time pressing my mouth to her chest. I drag my teeth across her soft skin, making her gasp in between moans. I slide my lips down, taking one of her nipples into my mouth. 

She hisses, thrusting against me harder, and I only last there for a few moments before I kiss my way back up her neck, breaking off so I can watch her again.

Her eyes are screwed shut. Her fingernails are digging into the skin of my back. Her thighs are in a vice grip on my hips. “Josh!” she yells suddenly. “Oh, God, _Josh_!” She moves against me violently, her pelvis thrusting forcefully against mine. I tighten my grip around her back and stare at her with my mouth hanging open just a little. I have never seen anything as breathtaking as she is right now.

She whimpers and groans; I can feel the tension in her entire body as she moves, her hips rolling and jerking a few more times before she collapses against me, limp like a ragdoll. 

She buries her face in my neck, her breath hot and damp as she gasps for air. I press my lips to her temple, making sure to hold onto her tightly as she recovers. My entire body is on edge, practically humming with tension and the need for release, but feeling a satiated Donna against me is something I can’t and won’t pass up.

I stroke her hair and she shudders from her head to her toes. I kiss her again, this time managing to get her cheek, and she somehow moves closer to me. “Sorry,” she mumbles, pressing her lips against my neck.

“What the hell for?” I ask, the soft strands of her hair falling like water between my fingers.

“I feel like I’m being selfish.”

“Selfish?” I repeat in disbelief.

“Or greedy, maybe?”

I pull back a little, trying to get a look at her. “You feel like you’ve been greedy?”

“Well, I’ve already orgasmed twice tonight, and you haven’t even once.”

I can’t help the snort of laughter that bursts out of me. “You know, I’m okay with that. Be as selfish and greedy as you want. I’m not offended.”

She lifts her head, looking up at me with big eyes that suddenly seem so innocent that it’s unnerving. “It doesn’t seem fair. You’ve been making me feel so good, and you’re getting nothing in return.”

“Trust me, Donna, I’m getting plenty in return.” Seriously; getting a woman to orgasm once during sex can be tough enough. Being with a woman who does it multiple times in one session is like…finding the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. With a unicorn frolicking next to it. And a mermaid swimming nearby. And all the other magical creatures in the mythical settings. It feels like it’s that elusive. “Never apologize to me about multiple orgasms.”

She lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a giggle and moan, and presses her lips to mine. Yeah, my entire body is on edge right now, but I wouldn’t give up a moment like this for anything in the world. 

“What do _you_ need right now?” she whispers against my mouth, and I shudder a little. 

“What do I _need_?” I repeat. I was going for teasing, but it comes out as a groan when she squeezes her muscles around me. I whimper as she does it again, but she doesn’t tease me about the high-pitched noise. She just smiles at me lazily, rubbing her nose against mine. 

“What can I do for you?” she breathes, and I close my eyes for a few moments, willing myself not lose it right then and there.

“Just move,” I answer.

She does, sliding up and down me gently, and when I finally manage to open my eyes again, she’s watching me intently. Her head’s tilted just a little bit, her eyes a half-shut, and I can’t help but grin at her. The look she gives me in return makes my toes curl. She exhales heavily, her entire body shuddering, and I feel myself tighten in response.

I dig my fingers into her back, trying to keep her close while also trying to help her move. Everything she’s doing feels incredible.

Her lip quirks, giving me a half smile; one of her hands comes up to my head, her fingers dragging through my hair as her nails scrape my scalp. My eyes slam shut at the sensation and I grit my teeth, still trying to maintain my composure. I know I don’t have much time left, but I’m determined to drag this out for as long as I possibly can. 

“Look at me,” she whispers, her hips pushing against mine insistently. “Josh.”

I force my eyes open and find her still watching me. She bites her lip as her head falls to one side and I immediately lean in and start kissing her neck. “Faster,” I mumble against her skin.

She goes faster, doing this unbelievable thing where she slides down me and pushes forward then moves back up, clamping herself around me at the same time. It feels beyond incredible. I grip her even tighter, and I’m sure that I’m leaving marks in her pale skin. She doesn’t complain, though. She just moves, giving me what I asked for.

I hear a moan, loud and guttural, and for a moment I think it came from me. When I hear it again, I look up in surprise, taking my lips from her neck. That was Donna. Donna’s still moaning. Holy shit.

“You feel so good,” she says breathlessly, moving even faster against me. “ _Ohhhh_ , Josh, you’re so _good_.”

My body reacts to her, violently and enthusiastically, my hips pounding up against hers mercilessly. She moans again, almost growling. At this point, I really don’t care if she’s just saying what she thinks I want to hear, because it’s working.

“Donna,” I say through gritted teeth. I want to say more, want to tell her how unbelievable she feels, how I’ve never had sex like this, that being with her isn’t like being with anyone else, that I’ve wanted her for longer than I’m comfortable admitting, even to myself. All I can say is her name, and hope that she understands just a little bit of what I want to tell her. “Donna.”

Her head drops back slowly, exposing even more of her skin to me. I run my tongue up her throat, her skin salty with sweat. I grab onto her hips and pull her against me faster. “Ohhh yeeeeaaah,” she moans, grinding against me with every down-stroke. She lifts her head up and watches me through heavy-lidded eyes for a moment before she presses her mouth to mine. We can barely manage to kiss each other over all the panting and gasping, but I try to keep my lips on hers.

“More,” I beg, holding onto her tightly. I don’t know how much more she can give me, but I’ll take what I can get.

“Anything,” she whispers, her hands coming up to cup my cheeks. My heart stops for a few seconds before it resumes its wild pounding. I’m sure that was a right now “anything” as opposed to a more profound “anything,” but my brain can’t differentiate at the moment, nor does it want to.

I feel a pull in the pit of my stomach, everything getting tighter, and I know there’s not going to be anything I can do to hold off any longer. “Donna,” I gasp, my arms going rigid, my fingers digging into her just a little harder. “I’m gonna…I’m about to…”

“Yessssss,” she gasps, rocking against me fast and hard. “Right there _yessssss_.”

My head goes into a tailspin—am I completely crazy or is she about to come again? That’s not possible, right? She’s just really into it right now.

And suddenly, I can’t think anymore. I hear a ringing in my ears as I tear my lips from hers, letting out a loud yell as I feel myself explode. I bury my face in her neck, clutching her to me as my body jerks and convulses. She whimpers in my ear, her legs tightening on my hips. Wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over me. 

My entire body goes stiff and I close my eyes, the soft skin of Donna’s neck muffling the noises I’m making. She presses her face against my neck, too, her teeth scraping at me as we rock together. 

One last burst of pleasure shoots through me before my body goes slack, and I let out a sigh of satisfaction. She kisses my shoulder, humming contentedly. I relax my grip on her, rubbing soft, soothing circles on her hips as an apology. She’ll probably have bruises, and even though she won’t say anything, I’ll still feel like an ass for putting them there. 

I kiss my way up her neck, stopping at her earlobe. “Did you…you know…at the end there?” I ask softly, and her entire body shudders in response.

“Yeah, a little bit. I think. Maybe. I don’t know, it might have been left over from earlier. Whatever. Don’t let it go to your already oversized ego, Lyman.”

I pull back and grin at her, and her answering smile is dazzling. She leans in to kiss me, and we keep it easy this time. Kissing for the sake of kissing. One of her hands slides through my hair and makes me shiver. I spread my hands out across her back and carefully turn us, tilting her down toward the bed. I settle on top of her, amazed that I managed to do that while still connected, and that we somehow did that while kissing each other.

Her foot rubs against my calf and I shift against her a little, making her gasp. I smile even wider and kiss her cheek, then her neck, and finally landing on her chest. She giggles softly as I hit a couple of spots that might be a little ticklish before I roll off her with a groan. She stretches out her entire body languorously as I dispose of the condom, and when I turn back to her, I can’t help but notice she’s still glowing. If I were the sort to believe in such notions, I’d swear she was an angel. 

I turn onto my side, reaching out to gently stroke her stomach. “Were you going to stay?” I ask quietly, trying not to hold my breath as I wait for answer.

She turns her head, eyes wide, and shrugs as she licks her lip. “If you…if you want me to.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes a little, sitting up to grab the blankets that we managed to displace. “No, I’d rather you tried to catch a cab at this time of night to go back to CJ’s. Better yet, the Metro runs until two tonight, so maybe you should do that.” I pull the covers over us before I settle beside her again. I reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear, sliding my fingertips over her cheek before I lean in, kissing her.

“Josh…”

“Stay,” I whisper. I don’t want her to go.

“Are you sure?” she whispers back, and I kiss her again.

“Stay.”

She studies my face for a minute before she lets out a sigh, nodding. “Okay. I can be gone before you wake up, if you want.”

“Donna…just stay, all right? Don’t be gone in the morning. What if we wake up and want to have sex again? If you’ve already left, it’s gonna put a real damper on the whole situation.”

She rolls her eyes in mock disgust and tugs at the comforter, pulling it a little tighter around her chest. I reach over to the bedside table and turn off the lamp, my bedroom thrown into heavy shadow. When I settle back down, Donna’s still watching me, almost like a skittish deer that’s been spotted in the woods, ready to bolt at any second. “Would you mind getting that one?” I ask, nodding my head toward the lamp on the other nightstand. I very nearly said “on your side,” but with the way she looks right now, I feel like that would freak her out. It almost short-circuits my brain just thinking it.  
Still, she sits up a little and shifts to reach over to the lamp. I can see there’s still light coming in from the hallway, but I don’t have the energy or desire to get up and turn everything off. I was in the middle of going over piles and piles of paperwork when she showed up a couple of hours ago, the sound of my front door opening scaring the shit out of me until she called my name a moment later. After that, we got a little distracted and making the rounds to basically close down my apartment for the night didn’t feel like much of a priority. “Did you lock the door after you came in?”

“Yeah,” she answers softly, the bedroom suddenly plunging into darkness. For a few seconds, I’m not entirely sure how this is going to go. We haven’t had the best luck with actually sleeping together, and while I know we don’t have to be wrapped around each other all night, I’m not terribly fond of both of us clutching opposite sides of the bed, getting as far from each other as possible.

The blankets rustle and she’s suddenly draping herself over me; her leg over my leg, her torso pressed against mine, almost covering me, her arm wrapping over my chest, and her head on my shoulder. I should feel like my personal space has been invaded but…this actually feels kind of perfect. I reach up and stroke her arm, turning to press a kiss to her forehead. I adjust my other arm beneath her, wrapping it around her shoulders.

She sighs, her breath warm against my skin, and she rubs her nose against my neck. This doesn’t feel “kind of” perfect. This feels actually perfect. The feeling of Donna’s naked body pressed to mine, our breathing already in tandem. We really do fit together perfectly. 

God—the post-coital bliss is really something else tonight. I feel like I’m ready to tell her anything, promise her anything, give her anything if she’d just make me feel this way once a week. Though, twice would be better. Nightly would be ideal. I think signing over my 401k, my stocks, bonds, savings, mortgage, and probably an internal organ or two would be an almost fair trade for the sensation of my brain literally buzzing with contentment.

A feeling of exhaustion washes over me at that moment, the buzzing in my head doing a great job of keeping thoughts of Leo and the funeral and everything else that’s been going on at bay. I don’t want to think tonight, at least not about anything other than the woman next to me. 

“Josh,” she says suddenly, propping her chin on my clavicle.

“Hmmm?” I ask, only sort of registering that she’s speaking right now.

“Are you going to call Sarah?”

“Huh?”

“Josh, I’m serious.”

“So am I. What’re you talking about?”

“Sarah Potrero. Are you going to call her?”

It takes a few seconds for my brain to catch up to her, finally remembering this woman that I was being encouraged to court. “Wasn’t planning on it,” I mumble, burrowing down beside Donna just a little more.

She doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to put her head back on my shoulder. I wait a few moments, struggling to keep myself from falling into oblivion, but she remains silent. I let out a deep, relaxing breath and my eyes finally shut all the way.

“Good.” 

My eyes pop open. Her voice was so soft I almost missed it. Hell, I probably imagined it. 

Still, I pause for a moment, waiting to see if she says anything else. All I can hear is her breathing, not deep enough to be asleep, but getting there. She shifts closer to me, pressing herself more firmly into my side. I let my eyes drift shut; it doesn’t matter if she said it or if I imagined it. 

I’m not calling Sarah.

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t tell you how long ago I wrote this. It’s part of the collection from my first notebook, I can tell you that much (hence why I’ve started dating my stories, so I can remember when it all happened). Anywho, I know erotica isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and I do apologize for that, but sometimes these two just want to do the nasty. Is what it is. For anyone playing the home game, I have a companion piece to this that is not at all explicit that I’ll be posting at some point in the not too distant future. I was also going to break this into two parts, but coitus interruptus just seemed cruel. 
> 
> I apologize for the title if it’s not correct. Google translate is a tricky minx sometimes.


End file.
